Fragment
by Fugitive
Summary: A collection of oneshot narrations. [Chapter Two: Regret] She came to the conclusion that this whole situation could only end badly, and wondered how much of it was her fault.
1. Insomnia

**:Insomnia:**

At exactly 3:37 a.m., L shuts his laptop and glances warily at the sleeping form of Yagami Light.

A single thin beam of moonlight eerily casts itself between the blinds, softly illuminating the golden brown hair and lean body that lay peacefully on the hotel bed. L can hear nothing but the sound of their breathing and the quiet hum of the computer on the opposite side of the room. After gently setting his laptop on the nightstand, L's eyes sweep over the relaxed face and shoulders – a stark contrast from the hard lines and tense posture that define Light's appearance during the day. L feels almost privileged to witness such vulnerability.

He moves to lie down as quietly as possible, unable to keep the chain from softly clinking. That damn chain. It stretches across the bed sheets like a giant abyss between himself and his colleague. His suspect. His…friend?

No.

Not really.

Light might put on a friendly façade in the investigation room for his father and the rest of the team, but once the door closes and the two boys are alone, their time together is nothing but a twisted game – a game of wits and double meanings, of suspicions and narrowed eyes masked by light-hearted banter.

_No_, L decides. He wouldn't call that friendship. L scowls, rather uncharacteristically. Who does Light think he's fooling? Who does _Kira_ think he's fooling?

Oh yes, Light is Kira. There is little doubt about that. As for anything further than that, L is in the dark. He doesn't understand Kira's methods. He doesn't even have any hard evidence linking Light to the cold-hearted murderer. However, years of experience of working with criminals has proved his gut instinct to be correct in the vast majority of the cases at which he has worked diligently throughout his young life. It just…_adds up_.

Light's chest rises and falls with quiet, deep breaths that convinces L that he truly is asleep. While this should be somewhat comforting to L, it's not at all.

_The sick bastard_, L grimaces. Mercilessly killing by day, resting peacefully by night -- he wishes the gods' curses upon him. Kira doesn't deserve to have a good night's sleep.

Aizawa-san is on watch duty tonight – twenty-four hours a day, L has at least one of the team members monitoring the cameras and the audio. The detective has nothing to worry about. Even so…L cringes at the sight and the feel of the cold iron chain wrapped around his wrist, trying not to imagine it wrapped around his neck instead. Clammy hands clutch the bedsheets tightly, his knuckles white with a sudden rush of horror. _Light wouldn't…would he?_ No.

But Kira would.

Suddenly the bed shifts and Light stirs, murmuring something unintelligible. His heart beating hard against his chest, L can't help but hold his breath until the movement stops and the room is silent once again. L wonders briefly what the brunet was dreaming about, and shivers involuntarily. He burrows under the covers and curls into his regular fetal sleeping position, but never takes his eyes off the man lying next to him.

Again, L studies the chain, gently running his dexterous fingers over several of the links. He and Light are bound together, not only physically, but in more abstract ways than L would have liked to be. Fate made Kira the son of the Chief of Police. Fate had Kira attending the same university as L. And of course, fate led Kira right here, tethered to L by a six-foot leash and a lifetime's worth of suppressed animosity. L and Light – thrown together in a tangled, chaotic mess of apprehension and unspoken mistrust. It was rather poetic.

_I am Justice. I am Justice, _L reassures himself. He'll be the one to catch him. It is only a matter of time before Kira slipped up. He just needs to be patient. _I am Justice_.

Fighting sleep, L anxiously chants the mantra over and over again in his head. He won't close his eyes -- no matter what, he just won't. Sleep is not an option, not with Kira lying next to him, ready to pounce…

The exhausted L can't even remember finishing his thought before Light's voice pulls him from the blissful dark recess of his mind. A sleep-laced _Ryuuzaki?_ _It's time to wake up_, followed by a satisfied stretch and an even gaze, with the barest trace of a smirk. _Sleep well?_

Yes, L decides, Yagami Light is nothing but a ticking bomb.

He had better take cover.

_Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer._


	2. Regret

The instant Rem handed Misa the Note, she knew it was a bad idea.

Meddling with the human realm was dangerous, and Jealous was testimony to that. Yes, Rem had noticed Jealous gazing obsessively at the human world; rather, at a certain human girl-child. It was pure chance that the day Rem had peeked over his shoulder in order to see what all the fuss was about, Jealous had hastily scribbled Misa's attacker's name in his Note. Registering mild surprise at the now-pile of dust that was once Jealous, Rem had picked up the notebook and stored it safely in her side-pouch with her own Note.

Now, Death Gods didn't have morals. The very idea was laughable. But then what, exactly, urged her to pass the Note on in the first place? The Amane girl had no claim to the notebook. Rem was cold, untrusting, and most of all, not one to do silly impulsive things like give a Note to a human.

But nevertheless, Rem gave it to her. Misa had accepted the Note and the Shinigami's presence with a childish glee – something that had immediately unnerved Rem. Something so dark and wicked thrust into the hands of someone so pure, so happy and naïve. It wasn't Rem's place to destroy something so rare. But even afterwards, even while using the notebook, Misa had never put up anything but that façade of cheerful innocence.

_That_, perhaps, was what made Rem sick to her stomach. It was one thing to kill and feel remorse; it was another to kill for fun.

In the months that followed, Misa refused to heed the Death God's advice. Whether it was "be more discreet" or "leave that 'Kira' alone", Misa wrote people off left and right in order to achieve her goals, seeking vengeance with a smile on her face. According to Misa herself, she was the heartthrob of an entire nation. She could do no wrong. It was this attitude precisely that led to her to Light, and to the scrutiny of the investigation team, where she was currently being held under surveillance in her apartment.

Rem wasn't experienced in the way of humans, but she knew recklessness when she saw it.

So, day after day, as Rem watched the sweet little girl murder innocent lives with the slash of a pen, she felt a strange emotion lapping gently across the edges of her mind. Was it…guilt?

_No_, Rem dismissed it, irritated with herself. Gods didn't have such base human feelings, let alone _guilt_, for goodness' sake. But, for whatever reason, obligation or boredom, she had bound herself to the Amane girl and was determined to see her through this series of tests and obstacles.

Now, how to go about that? Misa's most dangerous adversary was L. If he ever produced hard evidence linking her to the killings, well…

Yes, L would have to go.

And Light? Rem knew Light was up to no good. His god-complex, while amusing to the Shinigami, was out of control and nothing short of harmful to Misa. She also knew that Misa adored Light and would do anything for him, no matter how many times the Shinigami tried to warn her. Rem decided that she'd put his death off, at least until she could convince the silly girl that he didn't care a whit about her.

Again, Rem caught herself wondering why she cared at all. Death Gods didn't lower themselves to human matters; what made these circumstances any different? With a great sigh, Rem came to the conclusion that this whole situation could only end badly, and wondered how much of it was her fault.

She regretted ever getting involved in this.

_Don't start something you can't finish._


End file.
